muddygutter on the end of his cane, it was so filled and covered with thefilth that no color could be seen. Mr. Russel kindly carried her in hisarms to the house, and then he took her slipper to the pump and pumpedupon it till he got it clean enough to dry at the fire. An old shoe ofSarah Russel's was found for Lucy to put on, after her stockings and herclothes had been wiped, but it was much too large for her to walk in, ifshe had been in a condition to walk.
While the rest of the party were enjoying the garden, the summer house,the shrubbery and the lawn, eating fruit and gathering flowers, poorLucy, placed in a chair by a roasting kitchen fire to dry, her beautifuldress _tattered_ and _filthy_, her fine satin slippers quite and_entirely_ ruined, her face bruised, and her ancle lame, had time tofeel all her folly and perverseness.
"If," said she to herself, "I had not been so self-willed and so verysilly as to put on this silk dress, any other, even my best muslin,might have been washed and repaired, and if I had only worn my thick,easy shoes, I should not have slipped at all; and if I had slipped, anyother shoes but _these_ might have been made tolerably clean again; butnow my beautiful silver crown might as well have been thrown into thesea, for it is _all_ gone and has only purchased pain and disgrace. Ohow ashamed I shall feel to look at aunt and Emily, for they both toldme almost exactly how it would be if I would wear this improper dress,though aunt did not know that I wanted to wear it just to vex that proudMiss Prince; and after all she was not here to see it, and will onlyrejoice to hear of my mortification and disgrace. I dare say that Emilyis as clean and as nice as she was when she came, at least she don'tfeel so sore, and so dirty, and wet, and uncomfortable as I do, nor somuch ashamed."
Lucy shed most bitter tears. She had not the consolation under all theseaccidents, of feeling that she had had good or innocent motives forwishing to wear the improper dress, and that her friends would pity her;and again she wept over her vanity, her wilfulness, her envy, andmalice.
At last she heard the happy party returning to the house full of mirthand gaiety, and as they entered she heard Emily say, "I have looked allround for Lucy, I wonder where she has hidden herself; I suppose she hasfound something new and delightful in this charming place, but she willsoon be here now, because the sun is almost down--our _happy day_ isended, for mother has ordered the carriage to be ready as soon as tea isover," and she came bounding into the house rosy and smiling withinnocent delight; but her countenance became sad as she caught sight ofLucy through the open door, sobbing at the kitchen fire, in thedeplorable condition which we have described her.
Emily was immediately at her side, trying with kind words and anaffectionate manner, to sooth and comfort her. She was too good-naturedto tell Lucy that she suffered for her own faults, she was too kind_once_ to say to her "I _told_ you so, I _knew_ you would be sorry,_now_ don't you wish you had done as _I_ advised you?"--Emily did notsay any thing like this; but she looked kindly at her, took hold of herhand, and wiped her eyes, and said, "come, never mind it now dear Lucy,but think of all the pleasures we have had, and what a pleasant ridehome we shall have in the moon-shine--and besides, I dare say we shallbe able to mend the trimming, I will help you, and see if we can't getout these spots with Cologne water, and some of mother's patent soap,which is made on _purpose_ to take out spots from silk; come, nevermind, accidents will happen, and I am so thankful that the horse did notkick you, how frightened we were when he looked so wild."
Thus Emily kindly tried to divert poor Lucy till supper was ready. NowLucy had thought a great deal about the nice supper, and the good thingswhich she expected to see on the table, but she had cried till herstomach was sick, and her appetite quite gone; she could not taste anyof the delicacies on which she had depended so much, and besides, shedid not wish to show herself before her aunt and Mrs. Russel in such acondition, so she crept into the carriage which had been drawn up to thedoor, and waited there till her aunt and cousin were ready.
Lucy's aunt had been told before she reached the house of what hadhappened, by Mr. Thomas Russel, who had gone out to meet her; but, as hetold her that Lucy was not so much hurt as she was mortified andfrightened, she spared her the pain of seeing her before company, andeven after she was in the carriage, and had begun their ride home, thiskind aunt said nothing about the accident; for she thought it best tolet Lucy reflect in silence upon the events of the day, that the_lessons of experience_ for which she had paid so very dearly, mightinduce her to correct those faults from which all her sufferingsproceeded.
When they arrived at home, and were all collected in the parlour, Lucy'saunt desired to look at the bruises, and as she kindly bound them up,said to her,--"You have had your first lesson of experience my dearlittle girl to-day; it has indeed been a hard one, and I dare say willbe long remembered; you were much frightened, much bruised, muchdisappointed, and very much mortified. I am sure I am _sorry_ for yoursufferings, but if you will let them convince you, thatpride--malice--selfishness--wilfulness--and obstinacy, are all faultswhich will make you suffer more and more as long as you keep them, youmay _yet_ bless this day, as I shall most certainly, as the mostfortunate of your life, and worth a _purse full_ of such pieces as thatwhich you have so foolishly thrown away. You start, my little girl, butI assure you that all these dreadful faults were in your heart when youdetermined to use your father's present as you did, and kept to thatdetermination; for I heard all your conversation with Emily on the dayit was received.
"_Pride_ and _malice_, my dear Lucy," continued her aunt, "induced youto desire to dress yourself so richly, to astonish your friends, and tomortify (as you thought it would) the proud Miss Prince. Selfishnessmade you unwilling to part with the piece which was in fact sent toEmily, and did in no way belong to you. Wilfulness united to make youresist her advice, when she told you (and from her own experience) thatyou would be sorry if you dressed in this manner; and lastly, obstinacymade you feel that you 'would rather stay at home' than give up to mywishes and recommendation:--let _to-day's_ experience be sufficient foryou, and I shall truly love you; go now, my dear, to bed."
Lucy, however, was more mortified and angry than repentant; she hadthought so little about correcting her faults, and submitting to thegovernment of older and wiser people, that she had a great deal more tosuffer before she could resolutely set about becoming docile, obedient,humble, and submissive; she had never restrained her inclination, orcontrolled any of her desires or passions, and knew very little aboutself government; for no one had taught her till she came to her aunt's,that she ought to do so.
Emily's mother had done as she said she would, for she always kept herword in every thing. She had advised her about the gown she was to getfor poor Nurse Hooper, the day after she had received her crown piece;she had done more than she had promised; she had cut and fitted thegown, and shewed Emily just how to make it all herself, so that she haddouble pleasure in giving it to her. It was now done and folded neatly,and Emily went with her mother to carry that, and some other littlecomforts, to the poor woman.
Emily's delight was full and _complete_, when she witnessed thebrightened eyes and grateful countenance of Nurse Hooper, and heard hersay, that, "now again she should be able to hear her dear minister, andto thank her heavenly Father for all his mercies to her, in the Lord'sown blessed house;" and when on the following Sabbath, Emily stood ather mother's window, and saw the good woman walking to meeting, exactlyas she had pictured her, with her psalm book and her fan nicely foldedin her handkerchief, and looking so peaceful and happy, Emily thoughtshe felt more pleasure than she had expected, and would not haveexchanged her feelings, for any thing which could have been offered her.
Time passed on, and the adventures we have related were over and nearlyforgotten. Lucy sometimes thought of her faults, and of the lessonswhich had been given her; she sometimes thought she would try more tocorrect them, to be more amiable, and good; and when she saw how happyEmily always appeared, and how much she was beloved, she wished she toohad learned to control herself, and resist temptation
, that _she_ mightbe as happy; but she did nothing in earnest, and when temptations came,she did not try at all. Her aunt, however, continued to take the kindestcare of her, she watched for every opportunity to instruct and amendher, and she hoped that her heart was a little less selfish, her tempera little more restrained, and that she began to have more fear of doingwrong, to remember more constantly that the eye of God was ever uponher, even when she was alone and in thick darkness, and could see notonly what she did do, but what she even wished to do in her mind.
One morning a few months after their ride to Brookline, while Lucy wassitting in her chamber opposite to the open door, putting together adissected map which her father had just sent to her, she saw her auntcome up stairs and go into her own room, with a little package in herhand, wrapped in white paper and tied with twine.